Et Cetera
by Lady Jaye1
Summary: GI Joe/Marvel universe. This is a companion piece to Silence that contains related short stories and bonus scenes.
1. Beginnings

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Marvel, Hasbro, or whatever company owns GI Joe at this point (Marvel, Hasbro, Devil's Due, Image, IDW, etc)._

_These are bonus/misc. scenes that don't make it into "Silence" or are related to the "Silence" universe._

**Et Cetera**

_Chapter I: Beginnings_

_Note: I wanted to write about a younger Beach Head and Lifeline trying to deal with their mutations. Bits of dialogue that are written in italics are Wayne 'overhearing' thoughts telepathically, but not really realizing that he's hearing thoughts. The names of Beach Head's family members are my invention. I chose 'Robert' for his father because Beach's full name is Wayne R. Sneeden. I've always figured that his middle name came from his father._

Beach Head

He pressed his ear against the door. His parents were arguing again. It wasn't an unusual phenomenon, as his parents always argued. The eleven year old Wayne Sneeden often tried to convince himself that it was entirely normal. Try as he might though, the young boy easily noticed the differences between his family and the families of his better dressed and well fed classmates. For one thing, their parents seemed to get along.

_Fear, anger, disgust, outrage, pain…._

"It's not his fault!" his father said loudly. _"Why won't you understand? He's no different than he was before!"_

Wayne blinked and held his hands to his ears. Shouting. People were always shouting and saying things that were better left unsaid. When he was at school, he could always hear the taunts that people said his way. The young boy had confronted one classmate about it, who had given him a weirded out look and had claimed to not have said anything.

"He's your son, Susan!" His father's voice was rising. That was bad. Usually the elder Sneeden rarely raised his voice even when he was angry. Wayne resisted hiding in the corner of the room that he and his sister shared. He already knew that his father was upset. The boy wasn't sure how, he just knew.

"He's not my….I didn't give birth to one of _them_!" His mother's voice drowned out his father. She was the yeller. Wayne didn't know how she could continue to yell so much without losing her voice. His mother's voice died back down. She was nervous. There was a flash of fear as she wondered if someone may have overheard her.

Wayne's bottom lip trembled slightly. Why was all of this happening to him? It wasn't his fault. He wasn't a….a mutant. He wasn't a freak. He was just an eleven year old kid that was trying to get by in the world. Right now, all he wanted to do was finish the sixth grade.

_His mother didn't like mutants. The five year old Wayne Sneeden had no concept of what mutants were, but he knew they were bad people. He was grocery shopping with his mother when he saw his first one. It was a green skinned woman with pale, yellow eyes. She kept her head down as she quickly grabbed a few items off of the shelves and walked towards the cashier. Mama gave a disdainful sniff and glared after the woman._

"_We may not have any money, but at least we have our pride," she announced loudly. "At least my children aren't freak jobs." The green skinned woman flinched slightly as she waited for an equally disgusted cashier to ring her up. The unknown mutant rushed out of the grocery store. When the five year old recounted to the story to his father later, he couldn't understand why his daddy frowned._

"No Robert, I refuse! And what if people find out that…that he's a _freak_?" His mother was growing more and more frightened. Her image and pride were at stake. She cared less about how her son felt and more about how his mutation reflected upon her.

Hot tears began to roll down Wayne's face. He tried to stop them, but they kept coming. The boy hugged his knees and curled up into a fetal position. More than anything in the world, he wished that Robin was home. However, his older sister was still working at her after school job, making money to help with their family's expenses.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. His parents continued to argue and occasionally scream at each other. It was his fault. The only reason they were arguing this time was because of him.

_Rough hands shoved him into a set of lockers. Wayne bit his lip to keep from crying out. The library books in his hands fell to the floor. Three eighth graders leered at him. He knew their names well: Terry Jenkins, Matthew Farris, and Casey Cedrick. _

"_Leave me alone," he warned them. Brave words. Wayne knew that he was in trouble unless a teacher happened by. He hadn't yet hit his growth spurt and all three of the boys were bigger than him. One of them kicked him in the shin._

"_Know your place, Sneeden," Jenkins told him. The hulking blonde was the ringleader of the trio. "A trashman doesn't need good grades. A guy would think that yer tryin' to be better than us."_

"_Ah am better," Wayne muttered. Cedrick spit in his face. The red head smirked at him and patted his other cheek._

"_You hear that guys? He thinks he's better than us," Cedrick sneered. He leaned in closer and Wayne felt his heart beat a little faster. "You're nothing," the boy told him. "Your old man's just a crippled deadbeat and your mom's a whore."_

_Wayne's body froze in shock a brief moment before a tidal wave of rage shot through him. His vision blackened for a brief moment. The school hallway shook slightly and locker doors rattled in their frames. There was a crunch sound as three bodies were thrown into the metal lockers on the other side of the hall._

_When his vision cleared, Wayne was shocked to find his three tormentors sprawled on the floor in a crumpled heap. One of the boys had been knocked unconscious while the other two were groaning and rubbing their heads. Wayne began to slowly back away. He didn't understand what had happened, but he suspected that it was his fault._

"_Fuck," Farris groaned. Half dazed, he seemed the most aware of the three teenagers. He tried to stand up, but sat back down with a whimper. The teenager glared at the eleven year old mutant inching away from them._

"_Sneeden's a mutie," he said venomously. Wayne shook his head, but the teenager ignored him. "Don't deny it you damned freak!"_

_The eleven year old Wayne Sneeden turned and fled in the other direction. His three tormentors went to the nurse's office and complained. When Wayne was pulled in for questioning, he pleaded innocence. Having no proof of anything, the principal let him off the hook. However, that didn't stop Jenkins, Cedrick, and Farris telling anyone they could that he was a freak. _

_In the three weeks after, he had discovered that he could move objects with his mind. Terrified, the boy began to avoid even the few friends he had at his middle school._

_Wayne had struggled with the rising animosity at school for a fourth week before finally caving in and telling his father. It hadn't been easy. Shocked, his father had simply patted his shoulder and promised to be the one to break it to his mother._

A door opened and slammed shut. His mother was leaving, probably for good. Wayne Sneeden jumped to his feet and burst out of his room. He ran outside and saw his mother throwing bags into the family's beat up car. The boy tried to hold back his tears as panic set in.

"It ain't mah fault, mama!" he wailed. His mother cast him a disgusted, scornful look. She turned her back on him and threw the last suitcase into the car. Tears rolled down his face again as she climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut. Not knowing what else to do, the boy turned around and bolted. He ran as fast as he could in the other direction.

His father reached out after him. Agony and pain hovered around him like a dark cloud.

"Wayne, wait!"

Wayne ignored his father. Terror had taken over his body. Even his own mother hated him.

The terrified boy scrambled over the broken fence separating their tiny house from the next door neighbors. An old woman peered warily at him from inside of a closed window. Wayne ignored her and kept running. He passed an old army recruiting sign. The boy knew that sign well. He often stared at it and dreamed of the future.

But there was no future for him. Wayne felt what hopes he'd once had shatter into tiny pieces. He wanted to join the military and become a man like his dad. Maybe he'd try college at some point, but all he wanted to do was be a soldier. Wayne had worked his ass off to be at the head of his class. But it no longer mattered how hard he worked or how good his grades were. They wouldn't let him in the military or college if they knew he was a mutant. No one would hire him.

He had no future.

His breath grew ragged. Wayne finally stopped a few blocks from his house. His chest and ears hurt as he panted to catch his breath. The boy swallowed a lump in his throat and looked around him. He was still in the run-down neighborhood that he called home. A dog barked at him as he began to walk slowly down the street.

Where could he go? He couldn't go home.

Making a decision, he turned left at the next intersection and kept walking. After catching his breath, Wayne broke into a run again. A small thicket of trees came into view. The boy slowed back down to a walk when he reached it. His throat burned from thirst.

Wayne ducked underneath a branch and pushed aside a few shrubs as he walked. He knew this area well. It was where he went to think or be alone. The boy found his favorite oak tree and sat underneath of it. He often brought a book with him to read. Today, all he had was himself and the screwed up pieces of his life.

He sat for several miserable hours. Wayne's throat and head began to hurt from the lack of water. Since he had no money in his pockets to buy a bottle of water and there was no way that he could go home, the boy stubbornly stayed where he was. Another hour or so passed before he heard his sister calling his name. Wayne froze slightly and wondered what he should do.

Branches snapped underfoot as his older sibling made her way through the small grove of trees. Nearly five years his senior, Robin Sneeden looked very much like their mother. Wayne didn't know if he could deal with that at the moment.

"Dammit Wayne!" she shouted. Robin threw her arms around her younger brother. Wayne stiffened slightly. He wanted to pull away, but he was too relieved by the human contact and the relief and worry radiating from his sister.

"Dad's worried sick about you," she chastised. Robin Sneeden gave him another hug before smacking him in the head. Wayne winced slightly.

"We're going home," the older Sneeden ordered sharply. Wayne hunched his shoulders and gave her a stubborn look.

"Why?" he asked. "Ah ain't wanted there." His sister smacked him again. Wayne rubbed the side of his head. It wasn't fair. Why was he getting hit for saying the truth? His sister crossed her arms and glared at him with equal stubbornness.

"Stop being a baby," she said. Robin bit her lip slightly before putting an arm around her brother. "Look…Dad and Ah still love you. Mom's just…well….you know she's always been like that." Wayne looked at her. She was telling the truth. Whatever his mutant powers did, he somehow knew that.

"Dad won't kick me out?" he asked quietly. His sister sighed and her grip around him tightened.

"No Wayne, he won't."

Dusk was setting in when the two Sneeden siblings walked home. Neither one spoke. Wayne felt himself stiffen when their father hobbled into view. The elder Sneeden's leg had been injured during the war. Robert Sneeden had been given a medical discharge because of his disability. The boy now felt guilty that his father had been frantically searching for him on a bad leg.

Wayne thought that his ribs were going to snap when the elder Sneeden male dropped his cane and hugged him tightly. Robin had been right, he had been worried sick. The young boy was shocked to find his father fighting back tears. Never once in his young life had he seen his father cry.

"Oh, thank God," Robert Sneeden muttered. He held his arms around his son while his daughter explained where she'd found him. The former army soldier nodded his head and led his two children inside. Wayne sat on the stained sofa. His father sat next to him.

"Wayne," his father finally said. "None of this is your fault. You haven't done anything wrong."

Wayne didn't say anything. He stared down at his hands. His swallowed again, wishing that he had some water. The elder Sneeden noticed and called out to his other child. Robin came back with a glass of water and handed it to her younger brother. Wayne gratefully gulped it down.

There was an awkward silence for a while. Wayne pretended that he didn't know every thought and emotion flowing through his father's mind. Try as he might, the elder Sneeden was worried about him. Society hated mutants and there was prejudice everywhere. If anything, Wayne was lucky to at least not look like a mutant.

"What am I going to do?" Wayne finally asked. He wasn't able to hide the trembling in his voice. "I won't be able to…" His father interrupted him before he could finish his sentence.

"You can do anything you want to do," Robert Sneeden told him sternly. After a moment, he gave a wry smile and added, "Well, except run away or quit school. You're going to graduate and show everyone that they are wrong about you."

His father patted his knee. Wayne felt much better about himself. He didn't how he was going to do any of it…how he was going to deal with any of it. But his dad was on his side and that was all that mattered.

"You mean it?" he asked quietly. Robert Sneeden placed a hand on his son's head and drew him close. Wayne reveled in the contact. His father wasn't the most affectionate of men, but he loved his children. The boy put an arm around the man he admired so much and gave him a brief hug. Surprise flitted through the older man's mind before a satisfied smile crossed his face. Robert Sneeden returned the hug.

"Son…" the Sneeden patriarch said. "You're going to change the world, one person at a time. You're going to show all those damned pogues that you can't keep a Sneeden down. That's an order."

"Yes sir."

..._+..._

_Ten Years Later:_

Panama.

A young ranger was dying, shot through the heart by one of the mercenaries that had been hired by a local drug cartel. Pain was etched into his face as blood spurted out. His name was Amilio Bocaletti, a twenty-one year old Italian-American from the Bronx. He had been a gregarious young man, full of life and dedicated to his mission.

"Don't you _dare_ die on me!"

The speaker pressed his hands against the exit wound. Twenty years old and on his first tour of duty as a ranger, Wayne Sneeden willed the blood to stop gushing. It refused his orders and continued to stain his hands red.

"Please don't die, Milio," the young ranger pleaded. They had gone through Benning together. They were battle buddies. Friends.

Milio's lips moved wordlessly. Blood dripped out of his mouth and the young man coughed. Wayne Sneeden watched helplessly as his friend began to choke on his own blood.

"Where's the danged medic?" he bellowed. Someone shouted a reply. Medic Reyner was patching up their unit commander and would be along shortly. Wayne Sneeden swore and pounded at the ground. Panama dirt clung to his bloody hands. The medic wasn't going to make it in time.

"Milio…." Wayne said softly. "Ah'm so sorry, Ah…"

Milio gurgled at him, trying to speak. His mind was quickly fading. Not sure what else to do, Wayne placed a hand on his friend's forehead. The other ranger was trying to communicate something. The least he could do was find out what. Wayne closed his eyes and sought out the other man's mind. The Alabama native wasn't very good with telepathy, but it was all he had.

Seconds later, Wayne was sucked down through the recesses of a dying man's mind. It was like being pulled through a black hole. The ranger tried to scream, but his voice had no echo on the psychic plane. Then, so faintly that Wayne wasn't sure he heard it, was the word _'Thanks'_.

Emptiness. Wayne gasped when he found his mind back where it should be. Sweat trickled down his face. He didn't have to look down to know that Amilio Bocaletti was dead. Completely shaken by the death he had witnessed inside out, Wayne Sneeden laid his head on the chest of his fallen brother in arms and cried.

...+...

_Note:__ In Silence, Professor Xavier discovered that Beach Head had unconsciously placed telepathic blocks in his mind that inhibited his powers. Wayne unconsciously put these barriers up as a result of the problems he was running into with his abilities when they first emerged. The incident with his mother, the three bullies, and the dead friend in Panama were reasons he did this without realizing it._

* * *

><p><em><span>Note:<span>__Lifeline's background in the comics and the cartoon differs slightly. In the comics, his father was an abusive workaholic and there is no mention of a sister. It is unclear if he was a preacher, at least as far as I can tell. In the cartoon, his father was a pacifistic preacher and he has a sister. What seems to be the same for both canons is that father and son are estranged. Since I have already mentioned a sister previously in Silence, I will keep her as part of the story 'canon'. However, she doesn't make an appearance in this chapter. I have kept the part of Lifeline's father being abusive, as that was the impetus for him adopting pacifism. I have also portrayed him as a pastor, as a nod to the cartoon._

Lifeline

His father was screaming at him again. Twelve year old Edwin Steen flinched as he waited for the storm to pass over. If he was lucky, it would just be verbal abuse today.

It wasn't fair. His father was the pastor of their local church. He wasn't supposed to be like this. The elder Steen was supposed to be a loving father and a man of God. Maybe he'd been that way before his mother died. He wasn't now.

"I'm sorry," the scrawny boy said quietly. He looked younger than his age. Edwin knew he could pass as a ten year old, which didn't help his self-esteem.

"Sorry?" the man yelled. "Sorry for what? That you're a sorry excuse for a son? That you'll never amount to anything?" Edwin flinched again. He stared down at the floor. Hopefully today would be one of the better days. At least his sister wasn't here at the moment.

"You'll never be a man," his father sneered. "Not a real one." There was a hint of alcohol on his breath. Edwin had tried to hide the alcohol once, but his father had found out and beat him.

No one really knew that his father hurt him, of course. He was a pastor, a man of God. As a preacher's son, it was Edwin's lot to not complain and invoke his father's wrath or to bring shame on him. They lived in an affluent neighborhood, after all. It was shiny and bright, where nothing "bad" ever happened.

Bullshit.

"Please Dad," Edwin pleaded. "I'm sorry, okay? I'll try harder." It didn't matter how hard he tried or what he did. His father continued to rain insults and fists down on his eldest child. It was all to make him a "man." It was bad enough that Edwin was already a target for bullies at school. Having his father as one didn't help.

"Stop begging!" His father roared. He raised a fist and Edwin drew back. He automatically raised an arm to protect himself, even though he knew it wouldn't work. Edwin braced himself for the inevitable blow and told himself that he wouldn't cry this time.

His father's fist connected. A split second later, Edwin's ears were suddenly assaulted by an inhuman scream of pain and the sounds of bone cracking. The terrified boy opened his eyes and saw his father cradling a broken arm. The older man's face was contorted with pain and shock.

Terrified, Edwin backed away from his father. His elbow accidentally knocked against a wooden end table. The tiny table exploded into wooden splinters and dust. Edwin gaped at what had once been a piece of furniture.

"Y…you…" His father sputtered, staring at him with wild eyes. "You're one of them…one of those sinful abominations…."

"I….I didn't mean…." Edwin was on the verge of tears now. Panic had taken a hold of him. He couldn't move or think. His body seemed rooted to the floor. The boy watched as his father seemed to move in slow motion. The man picked up a lamp and threw it at him. It inched forward through the air. Edwin blinked, not able to understand why everything was suddenly so slow. He moved to the left and watched as the lamp slowly flew past him and shattered against the wall. The boy looked back over to his father, who was also in slow motion. The man's mouth moved, but Edwin couldn't string together the long, drawn out sounds that were probably words.

He blinked again and things were back to normal speed.

"OUT!" His father screamed. "I WANT YOU OUT OF THIS HOUSE!"

Edwin stared at him. His father couldn't mean…he hadn't meant to…

His father screamed at him again. Edwin backed away. He couldn't leave…however bad this place was, it was his home. The boy had nowhere else to go.

"Dad," Edwin begged. "Please…I didn't mean…"

"I'M NOT YOUR FATHER, YOU FILTHY MUTIE!"

Edwin ran. With his heart racing in his chest, the boy fled out of the pristine, expensive looking house in an affluent neighborhood of Seattle. Colors and shapes blurred past him. When Edwin finally stopped, he froze with shock.

He was in a different neighborhood. The boy looked around in confusion. He had been heading towards his friend Jason's house. It was the only refuge that he had.

Edwin walked down a sidewalk. He didn't recognize anything. People milled past the confused twelve year old. Edwin noticed a pretty blonde girl close to his age, standing next to a woman that was probably her mother. The two females were standing near a post office.

"Mom, do I have to go to Uncle Ted's party?" the girl whined. Her mother shook her head.

"Courtney, for the last time…" the woman sighed. Edwin cleared his throat.

"Um…excuse me," he said shyly. Neither of the females heard him as they continued to argue about 'Uncle Ted's party.' Edwin asked again. He got two half glares. The boy swallowed his panic.

"Sorry…uh…where am I?" he asked meekly. "I'm a little lost."

"Lost?" the mother asked. "Where are your parents?" Edwin flinched at the question. A concerned expression came over the woman's face. She bent down with a motherly expression.

"This is 23 Street, about three blocks from the zoo," she said kindly. "Do you need some help?" _Yes_, Edwin thought, _I need help._

"I'm okay, thanks," he said. Edwin Steen walked away from them, feeling more confused. He knew where the Seattle Zoo was and this didn't look like the area that was three blocks away. Maybe if he could find a payphone, he could call Jason for help.

Edwin passed by a newspaper machine. He froze and whipped around to stare at it. The local newspaper said the _Peoria Journal Star_. A feeling of dread filled his stomach when he leaned in closer. According to the title page of the newspaper, it was from Peoria, Illinois. He backed away from the newspaper machine and looked around. This couldn't be right. Why was a newspaper stand in Seattle, Washington carrying an Illinois newspaper?

The boy walked down the road and looked at every single shop he passed by. A convenience store had a poster on its window advertising the Illinois State Lottery. Panicking, Edwin took off at a run.

He stopped after what seemed like just a few seconds. Houses dotted an expanse of wide prairie. Edwin gulped as he searched for some sign of his new location. After some searching, he spotted a road sign far in the distance. Taking care to walk instead of run, the boy headed in its direction. He was shocked to find that he could clearly read the words on it, even though he was still a good quarter of a mile away.

_Welcome to Saskatchewan _

No way. Saskatchewan? He was in _Saskatchewan_? How the hell had he ended up here? How was he in Saskatchewan? Growing even more panicked, the young mutant turned around in a circle. No no no! Edwin picked a direction and took off at a run again. He stopped when he noticed something bluish-green underneath his feet and the boy immediately fell into water.

Edwin flailed around in a panic. He forced himself to calm down enough to tread water. His head popped back up to the surface.

Edwin Steen gazed around in shock. Miles of empty ocean surrounded him.

He burst into tears. The boy sobbed and continued to tread water. He had no idea how he was going to get out of this. Edwin no longer even knew what direction he'd come from. Thinking maybe he could try running again, the by now hysterical mutant found that he couldn't get back on top of the water.

This was it. He'd been kicked out of his house, discovered that he was a mutant with strange powers he couldn't control and as if that wasn't enough, he was going to drown to death. Edwin didn't even know which ocean he was in.

"Help!" he shouted. There was no one to hear him, but he shouted anyway. Maybe he would get lucky.

"Somebody please help me!"

Edwin began to pray. His father had destroyed much of his belief in God, but right now praying sounded pretty damned good. The boy didn't know how long he prayed and shouted for help, but he finally gave up.

He was going to die. Even though his arms didn't feel that tired yet, eventually they would. Edwin knew he couldn't keep treading water forever. His bottom lip trembled. He wasn't going to cry again. Crying wasn't going to get him out of this situation.

The boy picked a direction and began to swim. He swam as fast as he could. Edwin found that he couldn't swim as fast as he'd run. The young mutant also realized with dismay that he was getting disoriented by the lack of landmarks. For all he knew, he was going in circles.

"Help!" he shouted again.

"I heard you the first time, child," a voice said above him. Edwin forgot to tread water in his shock. He sank underneath the waves. A strong arm reached down and pulled him back up again. The boy found himself face to face with a tall, elven eared man. The strange man had black hair and wore nothing but a green Speedo like garment.

"Um…." Edwin stuttered. The man was floating above the water. He still had a strong grip on the boy's shirt. His rescuer held him up to face level and gazed at him with an aristocratic air. Edwin tried not to look too terrified by the man's intimidating stare.

"I am Namor," the man finally said. "What grieves you, young one?"

"I…uh…" he stammered. Edwin launched into a half hysterical account of what had occurred since his father had tried to punch him. The mysterious Namor listened impassively while Edwin told him everything, being too terrified to leave anything out.

"I see," the man said when he was done. "This is the first time that your powers manifested themselves." Not knowing what else to do, and uncomfortably aware that he owed his safety to this Namor, Edwin simply nodded his head.

"Do you have anywhere to go?" Namor asked. Edwin wracked his brain. There was one place he might be able to go. If that didn't work out, then he was effectively homeless.

"My friend Jason…his mom treats me like a second son," he stammered. "I might be able to go there. But that's in Seattle and I don't know where I am."

"The Atlantic," Namor replied. "About 150 kilometers off of the Norwegian coast." Edwin stared at him. None of this was possible. He was just having a bad dream that he would wake up from soon.

"I will help you back home," the man told him. He examined the scrawny child before giving a small sigh. "I wonder if you can fly as well."

"Fly?" Edwin asked meekly. "I can't fly." Namor raised an eyebrow and gave him an amused look.

"You ran halfway across the world and an ocean," the man said dryly. "I think it's more than possible." Edwin willed the bad dream to go away. Try as he might, however, reality wouldn't change. He was a mutant with superpowers. He'd been kicked out of his home and he was stranded in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

"How do I find out?" the boy asked sullenly. Namor's emotionless face studied him for a moment before the corner of his lips twitched slightly. Edwin gulped when the man wrapped an arm around him for a better grip. They floated high up into the air.

"Oh, I'm sure that we can test it on the way back to Seattle," Namor said dryly. A feeling of dread spiked through Edwin.

Several times back to Seattle, the mutant was subjected to various "tests" before he finally discovered that he could float in the air if he wanted to. Once Edwin discovered that, a feeling of joy rushed through him and he briefly forgot about his problems. The boy zipped around through the sky and enjoyed the feeling of the wind in his hair. He laughed in delight when he shot up through a cloud.

Reality came crashing back in when he noticed that Namor was watching him with crossed arms. Edwin had no idea how a man barely dressed could be so physically imposing. He floated back down to his rescuer. The twelve year old lowered his head and refused to look at him. The man had taken time out of his day to help and here he'd started playing with his powers and ignored him.

"Do not feel ashamed," the man said. "Look at me, young one." Edwin looked up at him. The man didn't look the least bit angry. Then again, he showed very little emotion at all. Namor gave him a satisfied nod before pointing towards the northwest.

"Seattle is that way," Namor told him. "I think you can find your own way now. This is where we part." The strange man gave him another nod before leaving him. Edwin watched him fly away. The boy floated in the air for a long time. After a while, he turned in the direction that Namor had pointed in. It took some trial and error, but Edwin finally managed to arrive in Seattle.

When he knocked on the door of his friend Jason's house, it was already dark. Edwin waited with bated breath until someone answered it. That person turned out to be Mrs. Woosley, the closest person he had to a mother figure in his young life.

"Edwin?" the portly woman asked him in surprise. "What's happened?" Edwin realized with a start that his clothing was torn and that his hair was in disarray. Tears rushed to his eyes when he remembered why he was here in the first place. A pair of gentle arms encircled him and drew him close.

"It's okay, honey," Mrs. Woosley said gently. "Come inside and we'll talk."

Unbeknownst to the boy, a hidden figure was watching him high above the city lights. Confident that the young mutant would be taken care of, Namor the Submariner took off in the skies. It would be years before they met again.

_Note:__I recall reading that Lifeline ran away from home/was kicked out when he was in high school and went to live with a friend. I couldn't find the source of this, so I could be wrong. I used this idea in this chapter, except he's in middle school instead of high school in this story. Also, the girl that Edwin met in Peoria, Illinois was a young Cover Girl. Peoria is her home town. Also, thanks to willwrite4fics for suggesting Peoria and Karama9 for her suggestion of Saskatchewan._

_...+..._

_Ten years later:_

Corporal Andrei "Nicky" Nikitin scribbled some numbers onto a form. Picking up a needle, he loaded it with a measles vaccine and stuck it into a jumpy recruit. The nervous young man gritted his teeth as his body was subjected to several rounds of vaccinations. Nikitin nodded his head at the young man. He signed the paper and handed it back to the recruit.

"Best of luck to you, Mr. Calhoun."

The army medic prepared his needles for the next recruit. The son of Russian immigrants, the corporal was stationed at Fort Sill, Oklahoma. His job as one of the resident medics was to inoculate potential soldiers against infectious diseases.

A new recruit sat down nervously next to him. He was a scrawny young man with a recently shaved head of black hair. Nikitin glanced at the recruit while he waited for the kid to hand him the medical form. He'd seen scrawny recruits before. Many of them washed out. This one had a light frame and looked as if he were underweight. The drill instructors would fix that shortly.

He cleared his throat. The young man jumped and handed him the sheet of paper. Corporal Nikitin looked down at the name. _Steen, Edwin. __Birthplace__: Seattle, Washington_. The medic picked up a needle and held it up to the recruit. Nikitin prepared to run through his by now automated 'I need to vaccinate you, so sit still and shut up' speech.

"Which vaccine is that?" the scrawny recruit asked curiously. Nikitin blinked before telling him that it was for Rubella. He was surprised when Steen knew what it was, as most recruits didn't know or cared.

"I was an EMT," the recruit explained sheepishly. "I'm going to be a medic."

A hint of a smile twitched on his lips. Nikitin found himself rooting for the scrawny recruit, even though he knew he shouldn't play favorites. Medics had to stick together.

"Well then, good luck to you, Mr. Steen," he said. The corporal pressed the syringe against Steen's arm. He pressed down on the needle. There was a snap. Andrei Nikitin gaped as the needle broke off. He scratched his head and checked the recruit's arm for injuries. There appeared to be no puncture wound.

Edwin Steen cringed nervously. Nikitin hoped that he hadn't scared his fellow medic with the strange glitch.

"Don't worry," he assured the young man. "I'm not sure what happened. Let me give you the Meningococcal shot and I'll come back to the Rubella one." The corporal gaped when the second needle snapped off when he attempted to inject it. A trickle of sweat rolled down Recruit Steen's face.

Andrei Nikitin stared at the recruit with confusion. One needle break was a fluke, the second was strange. Consciously aware that the line of recruits needing vaccinations was being held up, the medic picked up the measles vaccine. The needle broke again.

What the fucking hell?

"What's the hold up, Nikitin?" One of the drill instructors shouted. "Get a move on, you danged medic!"

Corporal Nikitin stared at the clearly frightened recruit. Dark, pleading eyes stared back at him. Son of a bitch. He had a feeling that the recruit knew why the needles wouldn't go in. The corporal tried another needle and found the same result. Agitated now, he took a deep breath to calm down. There had to be…he blinked…there had to be a logical explanation.

Logical…as in superpowers?

Nikiton hesitated a moment before leaning in closer to the young man. He lowered his voice until it was barely a whisper.

"Are you…one of them?" he asked quietly. He didn't say the word mutant, but Nikitin figured that it was understood. A look of panic shot across Steen's face before he finally gave a short nod. The medic debated on what to do. He didn't want to out the young man, but it was against regulations not to give him the vaccines. Then again, if he was a mutant, he possibly didn't need to be inoculated against any diseases.

Ah fucking hell, he'd better not regret this. This could get him into a shit storm of trouble.

He picked up an empty syringe and moved his body between Steen and the view of the next recruit. Nikitin pretended to inject the nervous mutant with the vaccines. He marked the check boxes on the sheet of paper, signed it, and handed it back to the grateful Edwin Steen.

"I can cover for you this time," Nikitin told him quietly. "The next medic may not be so willing to help you." Steen gave him a grateful nod and left. The army corporal gave a heavy sigh and turned back to the line of waiting recruits.

"Next."

...+...

Edwin sighed as he swept his eyes around the barracks. He was on fire guard duty, which meant that he and one other recruit were responsible for keeping an eye out for trouble. The other recruit, a Minnesota native, gave him a curt nod from the other side of the barracks. Good, no trouble. At least no one was trying to sneak out tonight. The mutant sighed again and did his best not to eavesdrop on the various conversations taking place inside and outside the barracks.

"…_got cookies again, I know it. The danged bastard won't share…"_

"_Five weeks left guys, we're halfway through…"_

Another snippet of conversation attracted his attention. This one was taking place outside among some of the instructors.

"…_son of a bitchin pacifist. I can't believe…"_

"_We've been through this, Sanchez. He hasn't complained about the weapons training, even if he won't ever pick up a weapon again."_ Edwin recognized that voice. It belonged to one of the machine gun instructors.

"_Even so,"_ a third voice said_. "He's not trying. Steen's doing well with the PT, but he's capable of doing better, he just tries to hide it. I don't know how the fucking hell a scrawny guy like him is doing so well."_ Edwin cringed as he listened to his drill sergeant, Jordan Lukas. Sergeant Lukas was probably the scariest man that he'd ever met, with the exception of his father. Nothing Edwin did ever satisfied Lukas and he'd done more pushups and punishment duty than he cared to remember.

Dammit. Edwin had tried his best to hide his mutation, but his drill leaders could still see that he wasn't being pushed physically. A horrible feeling sunk in his chest. They were going to wash him out, he knew it. The mutant didn't know what he'd do if that happened. Yes, he was a pacifist, but he wanted to be a combat medic. He wanted to treat wounds and help soldiers in the field. Edwin turned his attention away from the instructors. Eavesdropping would only worsen his mood.

His hour shift eventually ended and a new pair of recruits took over their fire guard duties. Edwin crawled into his bunk, but couldn't sleep. When his eyes finally closed, it was about an hour before the wakeup call.

The next few days went by in a blur. Since the drill leaders had observed that he was capable of doing more, Edwin made himself move slightly faster. He also tried to act more exhausted. None of it seemed to fool Sergeant Lukas, who continued to scream and bellow at him. It was during one of his punishment duties that Edwin spotted Medic Nikitin eyeing him from a doorway. Their eyes met briefly before the mutant looked away. Edwin dipped his sponge back into the pail of soapy water and continued to scrub the latrine floors.

They were just beginning Phase III of basic training when Lukas finally pulled him aside during the recruits' personal hour, just before lights out. Sweat trickled down the nape of his neck as he followed after the drill instructor. This was it; he was going to get kicked out. Tension ran through his shoulders and up his neck. Edwin forced himself to keep breathing.

A door shut behind him after they entered an office. Edwin braced himself as the tall African-American sergeant turned around to study him carefully. His face seemed as if it were etched from ebony. Finally, after a long moment, his DI motioned to a chair and ordered him to sit. Edwin sat.

"Do you know why you're here, recruit?" Sergeant Jordan Lukas asked. Edwin wanted to shake his head no, but knew that he would be caught in a lie. Instead, he gave a short nod.

"I'm not pushing myself enough," he said quietly. A pair of dark eyes bore into him. They were like twin pools of black ink. Edwin shifted uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry sir…" he started.

"I ain't a 'sir' recruit!"

"I'm sorry, sarge," Edwin corrected sheepishly. "I just…" he trailed off. How the hell did he explain any of it without getting kicked out? It wasn't that he wasn't being challenged. The mental and psychological elements of basic training pushed him to his limits. It was the physical training that was the problem. The DI stared silently at him for a moment before leaning back in his chair.

"Off the record," Sergeant Lukas said quietly. "I had a little talk with Corporal Nikitin. He told me about the vaccinations."

Edwin's body froze. He couldn't help it. His heart sped up in his chest as he eyed the drill leader warily. One person knowing about his mutation was bad enough. It would be even harder to keep a secret with two.

"Am I…getting kicked out?" he asked quietly. His sergeant sent him such a sharp glare that it made him sit up straight. After a long moment, Lukas shook his head. Edwin felt his tension drain slightly. He watched as his drill instructor stood up and paced around the small office. Jordan Lukas finally came to a stop before a painting of President Truman.

"Truman desegregated the military in 1948," Sergeant Lukas said, almost to himself. "Before that, people with my skin color had to serve separately. Most of the time we had to be in support roles and weren't allowed into combat." The imposing drill leader turned around to look at the scrawny recruit.

"My mama was in the Birmingham March, recruit," the sergeant told him. "I ain't gonna judge you for being a mutant. However…" the man trailed off for a while. The sergeant circled him and Edwin shifted uneasily.

"You're too obvious," Lukas finally told him. "You've tried to hide it, but the DIs can all tell that you're not straining yourself physically like the others. We need to work on that."

From that point on, Edwin's spare time was spent with Sergeant Lukas working on how to better hide his powers. The DI continued to bellow at him and push him, but he also became a fellow conspirator. The remaining weeks of boot camp blew by until it was finally graduation day.

It was the proudest day of his young life when he marched in front of the gathered crowds of family members. Mrs. Woosley, who had taken him in and raised him as a second son, had made the trip with his friend Jason. Edwin caught sight of her in the crowds. Tears rolled down her face as she beamed at him.

However, it was the meeting with Sergeant Lukas after the graduation ceremony that stuck with him for the rest of his life. Edwin gave the man a sharp salute when he saw him approaching. He owed this man and Medic Nikitin. Without them, he wouldn't have made it through basic training.

"At ease, private," the man told him. There was a satisfied grin on Lukas's face. They shook hands. Edwin thanked him for all that he had done. The sergeant simply nodded in reply.

"I suppose you're off to Sam Houston for training?" his DI asked. Edwin nodded. Fort Sam Houston was the training center for army medics. Sergeant Lukas looked pleased by his response.

"Good," Lukas told him. "We need good medics. By the way, this is for you." Edwin blinked when his drill leader handed him an envelope. The future Joe stared at it a long moment before taking it. He was careful not to crush it as he slid his finger through the seal. Edwin pulled out the card, which was a simple green card with the army's emblem on the front cover.

He opened it and a picture of Martin Luther King Jr. fell out. Edwin flipped it around and saw that the sergeant had written _'Never give up'_ on the back of it. The inside of the blank card simply stated,_ "Remember why you wear that uniform. Good luck, Sgt. Jordan Lukas."_

"Thank you, sir," Edwin told him. An irritated expression crossed the taller man's face and the army private mentally slapped himself.

"Don't call me sir!"

"Yes sergeant," he corrected. Lukas sighed. After a moment, he gave the smaller man a grin and patted his shoulder.

"Lord help me, Steen, you'll give me an aneurism yet. Hopefully your next sergeant can fix your desire to call every damn person a sir." Edwin gave him a sheepish look. However, Lukas simply shook his head and held out a well-muscled hand.

"Good luck in the world, Steen," his drill sergeant told him. "I hope that someday you can stop hiding."

"Thank you," Edwin told him. "I owe everything to you."

He saluted the sergeant again. It was the last time that they ever met. However, Edwin never forgot what the man had done for him. The picture of Martin Luther King Jr. was framed and later hung in his office at the GI Joe Pit. Sergeant Lukas's card was kept in a small box of mementos. On occasion, the man known as Lifeline would pull the card out and stare at it the inscription inside of it.

"_Remember why you wear that uniform."_

Edwin Steen never forgot. Once, when Doc asked him about the card, the mutant simply told him that it was from a man who had given him a chance. Doctor Carl Greer had responded with a raised eyebrow, but hadn't asked any questions. Doc was good about that, even when his pacifistic protégé insisted on doing his own vaccinations.

...+...

_Note:__ Thanks to willwrite4fics and Karama9 for offering comments._


	2. With Great Responsibility

_*This extra scene takes place after the destruction of the Pit, but before General Hawk is shot._

**Et Cetera**

_Chapter 2: With Great Responsibility... _

"Look, I'm not trying to push you into anything, Ed," Peter Parker corrected hastily. "It's just that I think you could do more than…"

Lifeline made a frustrated noise and very nearly glared at his new friend. Well, possible new friend. He wasn't really quite sure what to consider Peter Parker yet.

"I don't want to get into this again," Edwin Steen sighed. This wasn't the first time that they'd argued about this. "Can't we just watch the movie and talk about something else?"

Spiderman took the hint and changed the subject. Ed hid a sigh of relief as the other man refocused his attention on the Tom Hanks movie they were watching. The medic had already forgotten the name of it and had missed some important scenes while he and Peter had yet another philosophical debate.

Sleepless in Seattle, was that the name?

Ed glanced around the inside of Peter Parker's apartment. It was rather small. Then again, this was New York City and Peter lived on the salary of a newspaper photographer and a substitute teacher. He sighed again. For the most part, he and Peter got along. However, it was turning out to be a rather bumpy friendship.

"So….how did you learn to control your powers?" Peter asked delicately. Ed hadn't told him what had occurred when his powers had first erupted and previous questions regarding his family had resulted in a grudging admittance that he and his father weren't on good terms. Spiderman seemed to suspect that he was possibly asking a sensitive question. Ed appreciated that he was interested, but was being careful in asking about it.

Lifeline gave him a condensed version of events, mostly skipping over the confrontation between him and his father. Peter was smart enough to guess what had occurred and didn't ask. When Ed told him about his chance meeting with Namor, however, the superhero gave him an incredulous look and burst out laughing.

"Namor…you mean, 'Mr. Stick up his ass, I'm better than you Namor'?" Peter gaped. "He actually _helped_ you? He _never_ helps surface dwellers unless he doesn't have a choice."

Ed shrugged uncomfortably. He didn't know much about Namor. It had taken him a few years before he'd even learned who the man was that had plucked him out of the ocean and helped him control some of his powers. He'd overheard Tony Stark complaining once about the man, so Ed had kept the incident quiet. Beach Head was the only one who knew he'd met Namor as a child. Peter Parker was now the second. Then again, Charles Xavier may have learned of it through a telepathic scan. If the man had, he hadn't mentioned it to Lifeline.

"Maybe it's because I was a kid and had powers, I don't know," Ed admitted. "All I know is I would have been in big trouble if he hadn't helped me. I might have drowned. Even if I'd found a way out of that situation…it still would have been bad. He's the one that calmed me down and helped me get my powers under control."

He'd always be grateful to Namor for that. Ed doubted that he'd ever meet the man again. Then again, Namor crossed paths with the Avengers and the X-Men on occasion, so it was possible. Even if the man was as high strung and temperamental as he'd heard, Edwin still intended to be nothing but courteous to him. In those few hours that he'd known Namor, the man had been more of a father than his real one had been for his twelve years of existence. That had been a depressing realization.

Peter shook his head, still in disbelief over the fact that Namor had actually deigned to help a surface dweller.

"I still can't believe it," Spiderman muttered. "I doubt that Namor even cares about the rest of the planet. If it doesn't involve Atlantis, he could care less."

Ed debated asking for more information on his childhood rescuer. The medic would never admit to it, but Namor's act of charity had greatly impressed him as a young, confused, and very scared child. When the man's photo had appeared in the newspaper, the young Edwin Steen had secretly cut it out and saved it. He had actually hero worshipped the Atlantean for a short time as a child before he finally grew out of it. The fact that he had idolized a man he knew nothing about now greatly embarrassed the adult Lifeline.

"Just think of things you could do," Peter brought up again. "Namor's an asshole, but he saved you. Think of what _you_ could do with your powers. Think of how many lives you could save."

Lifeline groaned. He didn't want to get into this argument again.

"I'm not a superhero," Ed replied. There was a hint of annoyance in his voice. "I don't _want_ to be a superhero. I'm not a combatant."

"So you keep saying," Peter replied. "I'm not saying you have to fight though….well, okay I kind of am, but for the most part, there's plenty of ways you can help people without fighting. Help people who are trapped by fire or natural disasters, help fly supplies to areas that need it, that sort of thing."

Lifeline didn't respond for a moment. The things that the other man had just suggested were things he had admittedly thought of himself. However, when would he have the time? He had duties with GI Joe and those priorities came first. Ed knew that even with his mutant powers, there was only so much he could do. He couldn't go gallivanting off to do "superhero stuff" when he was on duty. Peter couldn't seem to understand that.

"I talked with Tony about that, actually," Ed admitted. "I told him I'm willing to help the Avengers with disaster relief when I'm _off duty_." As in, the rare times he was off duty and on leave. Even then, Ed had clearly stated that he wasn't going to do anything without the permission of Hawk or Duke.

Peter grudgingly accepted that. Several minutes later, however, the superhero was again lecturing him that "with great power comes great responsibility." The man couldn't quite get it through his head that having super powers didn't automatically mean that one had to _use_ them.

Lifeline finally lost his temper.

"Have you ever considered that restraint _is_ being responsible?" the medic snapped. He'd feel guilty later, of course, for losing his patience and making the argument worse. Right now, however, he was simply tired of Peter badgering him about using his abilities "responsibly." Ed just wanted to have a quiet night watching a movie and eating pizza...normal things that he rarely did. He and Beach Head managed to do "friendly things" all the time with minimal arguments. What bickering they had was more of the kind between brothers or good friends.

Why he and Peter Parker couldn't manage to watch a movie without arguing was beyond him.

"How is that being responsible?" Peter asked, clearly not understanding the medic's point of view. "You've got all that power, how can you just stand by and not use it to…"

"What?" Ed replied sharply. "You mean I should use violence as the answer for every situation? I should just go smash something because I don't like what someone's doing? How is that solving anything?

"I seriously don't get you," Peter shot back. He was standing up now. The movie was now completely forgotten. "You say you're a pacifist, but yet you're a soldier in a top secret and elite military unit. You say you won't fight, but yet you heal people who _do _fight. How is that any different? You're already involved in combat, whether you like it or not!"

Peter's voice was becoming very close to shouting. Ed nervously looked around. He didn't need the man's neighbors to overhear things like "top secret and elite military unit." The medic informed Peter of this with a frown. The other man's face reddened, but he lowered his voice.

"Seriously Ed, you need to straighten out your principles."

Lifeline felt his own face flush with anger.

"I took an oath to defend the Constitution and this country," he replied carefully. Ed struggled to control himself as he continued. "I took the Hippocratic Oath to heal people. I follow the non-violent principles of Aikido. Believe me, Peter, I'm doing more important work the way I am now. I think my _principles_ are just fine."

With that, Ed left the apartment and a stunned Peter Parker. The medic knew that if he stayed, the argument would only continue to escalate. The wind hit his face the moment he was airborne. Lifeline relished the feeling. Despite the misgivings he had concerning his other powers, he loved to fly.

He flew for a while before he finally felt his anger subside. It was replaced by guilt. Now feeling depressed with himself, Ed veered right and headed towards the Hawaiian Islands. He floated down and came to a halt just above an active volcano. The medic found it slightly therapeutic to watch lava ooze gently out of the pile of rock.

Maybe he should just give up on trying to be friends with Peter. They argued nearly every time they were together now. That thought upset him even more. He wanted to be friends with Spiderman. Ed liked the man…at least when Peter wasn't trying to push his ideology onto him.

Lifeline didn't like giving up on anything. However, he knew that sometimes personalities just didn't click. Friendships took work sometimes, but Ed was growing more frustrated by his inability to see eye to eye with Peter. He'd tried to be patient. As friendly as Peter Parker was, Ed had noticed that the man had social problems. The medic had accepted it, as Peter was who he was. Beach Head was even less skilled in the art of social interactions and they had no problems being friends.

So why the hell couldn't he and Peter get along?

It was late when he finally arrived back at the X-Men's mansion. Beach Head was of course asleep by this time. Ed paced around the kitchen briefly before finally pouring himself a glass of water and walking back outside.

He sat on the front steps of the school and sipped on his drink. Ed turned his head when he heard the door creak open a bit later. Piotr Rasputin nearly stepped on the tiny medic sitting in front of him. The large Russian blinked in surprise down at the hand blocking his foot.

"Sorry," Colossus apologized. "I did not see you there."

"It's alright," Lifeline replied. The other mutant hesitated a moment before politely asking if he could join the medic. Ed could smell the herbal tea in the man's hands. Colossus had probably had the same idea as him.

He scooted over to give the Russian some room. Piotr took up most of the space and easily dwarfed the medic. Ed felt like a small child next to the other man.

"It's a beautiful night, is it not?" Colossus breathed happily. "The weather is finally cooling as well. I can't wait until winter. It's too hot and humid in New York."

"I could do with some cooling myself," Ed admitted. The two men chatted quietly for a few minutes. He found himself telling Piotr about his most recent blow up with Peter Parker. The larger man listened with quiet understanding. Ed supposed that of all the X-Men, Colossus probably was the most sympathetic. Even though the Russian would fight if necessary, he seemed to prefer finding nonviolent solutions if possible.

"It's difficult," Colossus told him when he was done ranting about Peter. "I know. There's nothing more you can do than try to be patient with him. Peter means well."

"I know," Lifeline admitted. "I'm just tired of fighting with him. I've asked him several times to stop bringing the subject up, but he keeps doing it."

"Let it be for tonight," Piotr Rasputin told him with his accented English. "It's a quiet, peaceful night here. The only turmoil at the moment is what's in your mind."

Colossus left him a moment with a quick apology. Several minutes later, the large Russian returned with a second cup of herbal tea. He handed it to the surprised medic. The two men sat in comfortable silence. Ed gratefully sipped on his tea and listened to an owl hoot in the distance. Piotr Rasputin eventually stood up again and stretched.

"I'm going to the Botanical Gardens tomorrow with Kitty and Jubilee," the other man said. "Would you like to accompany us?" Ed nodded his head, surprised slightly to have been invited. Colossus gave him a wide smile when he accepted the invitation.

"Excellent," Piotr replied. "We're leaving at 9:30 in the morning. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed."

The Russian waved goodbye and went back inside the mansion. Ed sat for another ten minutes or so before deciding that going to bed was a nice idea.

* * *

><p><em>The next day<em>

Beach Head watched with satisfaction while a group of exhausted teenagers dispersed. He wouldn't admit to it, but he'd come to enjoy teaching P.E. to the little pogues. Even though they were uncivilized civilian teenagers (also known as heathens), it hadn't taken much for him to whip up some discipline among the ranks.

With surprise, he'd also realized that he enjoyed the challenge of instructing and pushing people with superpowers. It had taken some adjustment, but now his classes ran smoothly, at least for the most part. Shipwreck and Ace had their equivalents among the students.

In fact, a couple of the boys and one of the girls had taken to idolizing him. Snake Eyes thought it was hysterical while Scarlett and Cover Girl thought it was "cute."

Ah, speaking of being idolized…

"Professor Sneeden!"

"What is it, Ashida?" he asked. An Asian girl stood stiffly at attention, just like a good little greenshirt. Noriko Ashida, also known as Surge, was one of the kids who idolized him. The Japanese mutant was a strong minded and strong willed girl. She was probably going to be another Scarlett when she grew up.

Speaking of Scarlett…Red seemed to be the other Joe that Surge had come to idolize. Snake Eyes probably wasn't far behind in being hero worshipped.

Damn, she probably really was a Scarlett Junior in the making.

"Iceman says that you have a phone call," she said. Wayne nodded in acknowledgement and dismissed her. Surge watched him leave before dropping to the ground and pumping out more pushups. Beach Head smirked slightly while he felt her strain herself physically. Good kid.

The ranger was surprised and a little annoyed to find that Peter Parker was the one who had called him. He was even more irked to discover that Parker wanted him to talk to Lifeline about some recent argument.

"Talk to him yourself," Beach Head rumbled. "It ain't mah fight, Ah'm not gettin' in the middle of it."

"_I'm not asking you to,"_ Peter Parker denied. _"But I don't know how to talk to him anymore without us fighting."_

"And you're asking _me_ for help?" Wayne asked with surprise. "Who am I, Psyche Out? Ah ain't the one to ask, Parker. Either talk to someone like Jean or Storm or grow a pair and talk to Ed yourself."

"_But…"_

"You pissed him off, Parker," the ranger growled. "You fix it. Not mah problem."

Wayne slammed the phone down. Why the hell was the little pogue calling him for? Beach Head had a good idea what the argument had been about. There was no reason for him to be involved. If Parker couldn't learn to keep his mouth shut and accept the fact that Lifeline's duties and philosophy didn't allow him to be some superhero, that was his own problem.

He briefly debated telling Lifeline about the phone call, but decided against it. Knowing the medic would never pick a fight, Wayne figured that the argument was Parker's fault. In that case, there was no reason for Ed to feel guilty and call Peter, as if he were the one to blame for it.

Besides, from what he could tell, Lifeline was down in the lab with Beast at the moment. Wayne didn't want to disturb him while he was working.

Beach Head decided to do a short patrol of the school. Discipline at the academy was higher than he remembered from his own school growing up, but there were still instances of students acting up.

Wayne blinked suddenly when a herd of unicorns galloped in front of him. He felt a vein pop when he felt the culprit snickering nearby. Damn girl and her damn pixie dust hallucinations. Ignoring the unicorns and tiny gnomes that he knew to just be illusions, the ranger easily hunted down the teenager hiding behind a door.

"GWYNN!" he bellowed. There was a loud squeak and a thud when the petite culprit jumped and smacked her elbow against the wall. Beach Head pushed away the door and glared down at a pink haired teenage girl. Megan Gwynn, or Pixie, lived up to her "codename." Brightly colored, insect like wings opened and closed behind her back. Sudden fear wafted off of her like rank perfume.

"I didn't do anything," she stammered. Oh, so she was going to lie about it, was she? What was it with teenagers and short memories? He'd already busted her ass once before and Wayne knew for a fact that his mutant abilities were public knowledge.

Beach Head may not be Jean Grey, but his telepathic powers worked just fine and he had years of experience dealing with the likes of Shipwreck and misbehaving greenshirts.

He decided to remind her about his abilities. The ranger smirked slightly while he went into her mind and made her "see" a couple of dancing skeletons. Pixie gave a tiny shriek.

"What, don't like yer own medicine?" Beach Head drawled. The teenager gulped and suddenly looked _very_ worried. Good. She had reason to be, even if Wayne had to go slightly soft on her for being a kid and not one of his greenshirts.

"For detention, you get to clean the girl's lavatory with a toothbrush," Wayne told her. "And don't think on trying to cheat or not do a thorough job. I'll have Storm check on it."

Slightly soft. If she'd been a greenshirt, she'd be cleaning the bathroom with a potato.

"With a toothbrush?" she whined. "The _whole_ lavatory?"

"Everything," Beach Head told her firmly. "Every inch of floor, stall, sink, shower, wall, and toilet. If you keep whining, you can do it with a potato. I want it done by lights out tonight." See, he _could_ be generous.

The girl sulked and walked off. Wayne shook his head. All the kids needed were a little discipline. Cyclops was too soft on them. Storm was sometimes too, but then again, student rarely disobeyed her. They knew not to.

Ah, speaking of Summers, the pogue would probably lecture him later for being "too harsh" on the students and that they "weren't soldiers." Whatever. Wayne respected Cyclops and even liked him a bit, but they also disagreed on how to handle discipline problems.

The rest of his patrol went without incident, so he headed over to the library. Wayne had two purposes for going there. The first was to make sure that any students there were actually studying and being respectful of the library. The second was that he wanted to do some reading himself. Beach Head loved to read, even if he was often too exhausted at the end of a normal day to read more than a few pages. He was taking full opportunity of his "break" to go through the school's vast library.

It was quiet when he arrived. The ranger scanned the library and was satisfied with what he saw. He made his way over to the biography section and began to read through the titles. Wayne plucked a book on Benjamin Franklin off the shelf and skimmed through the first few paragraphs. Deciding that it was worthy of further reading, he tucked the book under one arm and went back to sifting through the book shelves. He was pleased to discover a memoir from the Franco-Prussian War.

Happy with his current loot, Wayne made his way over to a comfortable arm chair. The ranger read for nearly an hour before closing the book to give his eyes a break. He scanned the library again with both his eyes and his mind. It was a habit that he couldn't break, especially since it had kept him alive on more than one occasion. He was pleasantly surprised to find another one of his students studying in a quiet corner of the library.

His students. When the hell had they become _his_ students?

This particular student was Sarai Demsky. He'd graded one of her papers at the beginning of his leave and had been appalled by her poor grammar. Demsky had since become of his success stories. The kid was working through a lot of problems, but as sympathetic as Wayne had been, he had refused to let her slide.

It had taken work, but Wayne Sneeden was no stranger to work and he never shied away from a challenge. He'd been strict with the girl and had forced her to begin taking responsibility for herself. Jean Grey and Scott Summers had tried to intervene, thinking he wasn't being sensitive to the psychological trauma and emotional issues she was working through, blah de blah de blah.

He'd disciplined Demsky whenever she'd decided to act like a little pogue. Praised her when she tried and improved. Pushed her when he knew she could do better. He didn't limit himself to P.E. classes. Wayne had routinely been checking on all her grades. Little by little, the kid had begun to open up more and was now apparently studying hard under her own initiative.

If he'd had to put up with a month's leave with a bunch of idiot civilians, Wayne Sneeden was happy to say that pushing little Sarai and the other students into shape had been worth it.

Beach Head read a few more pages out of his book before checking on the girl again. He could feel her mentally struggling with whatever she was studying. The ranger chewed on his lower lip before making a decision. He closed his book and pretended to accidentally wander into her section.

The sixteen year old girl was so engrossed in her homework that she didn't even notice the burly ranger. Wayne wasn't going to interrupt her or offer to help. He wanted the kid to ask for help herself. Beach Head gave her a slight telepathic nudge to discreetly announce his presence.

Sarai Demsky looked up in surprise when she noticed the tall soldier peering at the books on a high shelf. The girl silently watched as Beach Head continued to look through the books, pretending not to have noticed her. They were in the literature section, which didn't really interest him. However, he had to keep up his pretense.

Wayne finally found an author he recognized. He picked up a Shakespeare book and tried not to yawn while he read through the first few pages. The ranger waited while the girl struggled internally with her thoughts. Finally, the kid summoned her courage and took the step that he'd been waiting for.

"Professor Sneeden?" the girl asked quietly. There was a small quaver in her voice and Wayne easily felt how nervous she was. The ranger turned around and gave her a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked. Beach Head already knew what she wanted to ask, but he let her say it anyway. The kid needed to take the step herself.

"I…I don't understand how to do this math problem," the girl told him. "Can you please help me?" Wayne very nearly smiled. She'd even had to go and use the word please. Summers could suck it. His methods worked just fine. His little heathens were acting more civilized by the day.

Beach Head sat down next to the girl. For the next two hours, he tutored Sarai Demsky in math and English. Jean Grey later drifted into the library and peeked in on them, though only Wayne noticed. The red head smiled at them and left.

Now feeling bolder and more confident with herself, the sixteen year old mutant asked Beach Head if he could tutor her some more. Wayne knew he only had about a week and half left before he returned to duty, but hell, how could he say no when she'd progressed this much?

And so, the ranger worked out a schedule with her that managed to squeeze in twenty hours of tutoring before he left. He also helped Demsky to arrange a better studying schedule. Beach Head felt immensely pleased with himself when he finally left the library.

Pfff…Scott Summers and his "you're not being sensitive to the emotional needs of the child" bullcrap could go fuck itself. Rangers lead the way every damn time.

* * *

><p><em><span>Author's note:<span>__ Sarai Demsky is my own creation. Her name appeared in chapter twenty-one of Silence. I had intended to do more with her, but it wasn't conducive to the plot so I left it out. Since I skipped over pretty much all of Beach's attempts to help her, I'll do another extra scene that's set before this one. The other two students that appear, Surge and Pixie, belong to Marvel._

_I'll do more with life at the mansion in some more extra scenes. I largely skipped over them in Silence and will address it more here._


	3. Wherein

_*Note: This takes place right after the last chapter of __Ninja Walkabout__._

_Chapter 3: Wherein…_

**Wherein the Phoenix Master battles a hangover and the Silent Master meets a raccoon…**

His shoulders shook violently with barely concealed, near silent laughter. In front of him, an Asian man scowled darkly. His clothes and hair, which were normally immaculate, were rumpled and messy. Dark bags hung under his eyes. Storm Shadow's mood wasn't improved by the fact that he was having a massive hangover…and that his friend thought it was hilarious.

"I'd like to see you drink with that lot," Storm Shadow continued to complain. "Thor and Wolverine can drink a whole liquor store between them and not be affected. As for Billy…" the ninja master's rant denigrated into a mixture of Japanese and English curses. Storm Shadow's apprentice, it seemed, also had a stomach for liquor…which might have something to do with his mutant ability to withstand plant based poisons and toxins.

Snake Eyes smugly signed that his sword brother could get drunk off of vanilla extract. No, correction, he could get drunk off of the _fumes_ of vanilla extract. Thomas Arashikage, however, failed to acknowledge the truth of this or to see the amusement of the whole situation.

"I can't get drunk off of that!" Storm Shadow denied sharply, wincing a moment later and covering his sensitive ears. The ninja groaned under his breath and held his head for a moment, presumably to try to clear the alcohol induced migraine away. Snake Eyes broke into peals of laughter. The sounds from his damaged throat sounded odd and disjointed, but to anyone who knew the ninja, it was easily distinguishable as _'I'm laughing my ass off at you.'_

Storm Shadow snarled at him, hardly in the mood for being the butt of a joke. It didn't help that, at that moment, a considerably irked Wolverine threw the closed door open and marched in to deposit a furry raccoon in the ninja master's hands.

"Your 'child' just tore up a shit load of paper files in Bruce Banner's office," Logan barked at him. "Unless you want the Hulk to squash him, keep him under control." The Canadian stalked out, muttering something about _'fucking scientists and their alter egos and goddamned ninja and their goddamned pets.' _Storm Shadow, however, blinked and looked down at the furry creature in his hands.

"Errol…." Tommy gaped. "What the hell did you do?"

The raccoon squeaked up at him. Snake Eyes gaped a long moment at the animal as he digested what Wolverine had just said. The Silent Master asked his sword brother about the said raccoon, who looked particularly devious and naughty in the other man's hands. When Storm Shadow replied that it was his pet, Snake Eyes doubled over in laughter again.

Tears blurred his eyes, but the Silent Master managed to sign, _*He is truly a terror, a blight against villains everywhere.* _Storm Shadow gave him a disdainful sniff and retorted, with Tommy logic, that a raccoon was somehow a more reasonable pet than a wolf.

_*Right,*_ Snake Eyes replied, still smiling underneath of his mask. _*Because a raccoon will be so useful in a fight. What are you going to do, rub his fur in your enemies' faces and hope they sneeze?*_

"Shut up!" Storm Shadow replied, wincing again from the loud noise. The raccoon in his hands wriggled and finally managed to finagle his way out of the ninja master's hands. It looked up at Snake Eyes, cocked its head, and squeaked. Then it ran off towards the door that Wolverine had slammed behind him. Unable to open it, it scratched at the door and whined.

_*By the way, brother,*_ Snake Eyes asked with amusement. _*Who is Bruce Banner? The name sounds familiar.*_

A loud roar suddenly shook the Avengers' Mansion. When it finally dawned on both ninja _whose _papers that the raccoon had shredded, they quickly weighed their options. The mutual decision was that neither man wanted to be a ninja pancake under the Hulk's foot. Within seconds, two Arashikage ninja and a raccoon were slipping silently, and quickly, away from the Avengers and towards the safety of the X-Men's school.

* * *

><p><strong>Wherein Forge builds a death ray….<strong>

Spirit internally debated the wisdom of entering the temporary motor pool. After all, it wasn't usual for him to be around there. However, his quarry was currently operating out of the said motor pool. Charlie Iron Knife hadn't given up on learning magic, especially since learning that he had the potential to use it. However, the army tracker had decided to take the route of feeling Forge out slowly and befriending him before bringing the subject up again.

Finally deciding that waiting outside of the motor pool in indecision was hardly accomplishing anything, Spirit walked inside. He winced slightly at the noise. Between the loud whir of power tools and the pounding of "Hells Bells" in the shop, it was difficult to hear anything else. As a tracker, Spirit was careful not to damage his hearing since it was a valuable tool. The two men inside the shop, however, seemed to have no compunctions about blasting their eardrums out.

Charlie found Forge in the back of the shop, more particularly, underneath a military vehicle. Clutch was halfway underneath as well, apparently helping Forge with whatever he was installing. Spirit stopped next to them and cleared his throat. However, neither of the mechanics heard him over the pumping strains of ACDC. Spirit sighed and shouted out a greeting.

There was a small clatter of a tool underneath the car, followed by a thump and the sound of Clutch cursing. Spirit guessed that the man must have hit his head against the vehicle. His suspicion was confirmed when the grease monkey crawled out from underneath the VAMP, rubbing his forehead and glaring at Charlie. Forge rolled out from underneath the vehicle a moment after the Joe.

"What is it?" Clutch asked, apparently still a bit irked at the surprise visit. "I swear, you're almost as bad as the ninja."

"Of course," Spirit replied dryly. "It's ever so hard to sneak up on someone with this music. Perhaps we should advise Snake Eyes to play this every time he's on a mission."

"Smart ass."

Charlie allowed his lips to quirk up slightly before informing the two men that Duke wanted a status report. The excuse was true enough, as the first sergeant seemed a bit wary of stepping foot into the motor pool himself to ask. Spirit didn't mind, as it gave him an excuse to seek out Forge.

Forge clapped his hands twice and the music level immediately lowered so that it was easier to talk. Charlie was relieved to find that his ears were no longer pounding, but his eardrums still ached slightly. He carefully paid attention while Clutch gave him a status report. Charlie nodded his head and then indicated the VAMP.

"What about that?" he asked curiously. Charlie wasn't sure if it was just a simple repair job, or if the two men were upgrading the VAMPs as well.

"Oh, nothing, just adding a death ray," Forge answered nonchalantly, his tongue sticking out slightly while he popped some gizmo into the underside of the car. The mutant was now back at work, having let Clutch fill his teammate in on their projects.

Spirit stared at him a long moment before daring to ask, "What are you _really _installing?"

"Death rays. What?" Forge looked up. "What's wrong with death rays?"

Charlie Iron Knife stared at him a long moment, unsure if Forge was pulling his leg or if he really _was_ installing a 'death ray' onto the VAMP. It didn't help that Clutch had a smug look on his face, which could be an indication of either reason.

"Death rays seem perfectly reasonable to me," Clutch nodded sagely. "Don't let Spirit get you down, he's just jealous."

"I'm not…I just…" Charlie sighed heavily. "You're putting a _death ray_ into the VAMP? _Why_?" Why in the Great Spirit's name was there a damn death ray in the motor pool? What if it went off?

"Why not?" the two men asked, apparently not sharing Spirit's hidden qualms. Charlie groaned slightly and decided not to argue against it, as he liked what remained of sanity. Duke could deal with it. Yes, that sounded like an excellent job for a first sergeant. This was out of Spirit's job description.

"I'm…going to go give Duke his report," Spirit replied instead. He didn't figure that there was any way he could make a dignified retreat, but Charlie decided that he was going to try anyway. The tracker forced a polite expression of calmness on his face while he walked out of the motor pool.

After he had left, Clutch turned to Forge.

"So…you think we can work Duke into a screaming fit?"

"Possibly," Forge started to answer, but was interrupted by the resident female mechanic.

"Ooo…" Cover Girl asked excitedly. "What're you guys building?" Clutch immediately swung around to admire the beautiful, former model who had entered just as Spirit was leaving.

"Courtney!" Clutch yelled excitedly. "We built a death ray! Well…Forge built it…but we have a death ray!"

"Show me!"

* * *

><p><strong>Wherein the Hulk is displeased….<strong>

The Avengers' Mansion was literally shaking when Flint arrived. Shouting could be heard as men and women, both in their uniforms or in a state of undress, ran here and there as a terrifying _something _roared in the background. Unbeknownst to him, two ninja were currently slipping away from the mansion. This would be unfortunate, as debriefing and talking with Storm Shadow was one of the reasons that Flint was even here. The other was Cobra Commander's son, recently rescued from Muir Island.

However, Flint's carefully laid plans came crashing down when he spotted Captain America, Wolverine, and Hawkeye dashing through the Avengers' headquarters.

"Get the tranq!" Steve Rogers shouted. "What the hell set Bruce off _this_ time!"

"It was that fucking raccoon!" Wolverine bellowed back.

"What!"

"Uh…." Flint stood there, not entirely sure what he should do, but knowing that somehow his life was endangered if he continued to stay still. The warrant officer took off after the other three and asked about the situation.

A wall crashed open, revealing a very large and very angry, green…well….monster of a man. Flint gaped up a moment at the Hulk and pondered that the man was much larger and much more frightening in person than the Intel photos made him out to be. That moment passed, however, when the warrant officer was forced to flee with Hawkeye while Wolverine and Captain America attempted to slow the green behemoth down.

"I have to get to my room!" Hawkeye shouted at him. "I need to get my quiver and bow! I have a couple of arrows tipped with a tranquilizer for situations like this!"

"Why the hell don't you have your quiver now!" Flint asked sharply.

"I'm hungover and I woke up in the kitchen, okay!" Hawkeye snapped back. Now that Flint looked at him, he realized that the man was currently dressed only in his boxers and a rumpled shirt.

"Fine," the warrant officer replied. "Let's get to your room before…"

Flint's body suddenly slammed into Hawkeye, who in turn slammed into the ground. The groaning figure of Captain America lay on top of them. An angry roar shook the walls and a green blur crashed down the hallway towards the crumpled pile of men, with Flint stuck in the middle. Steve Rogers threw his shield, but it bounced off of the Hulk's head and embedded itself into a concrete wall.

"I'm going to _kill_ that ninja!" Hawkeye shouted, staring up at the Hulk from the bottom of the pile. The three men quickly scattered and evaded a giant, green foot that smashed down through the floor. Flint panted and swore darkly in agreement with the archer.

Wolverine went flying through the air, a human projectile aimed at Captain America. Steve Rogers was smart enough to not dare catch a man with an adamantium laced skeleton, thrown at a superhuman speed. The WWII veteran scurried out of the way just before a cranky Canadian could crush him.

"Where the hell is Thor or Miss Marvel?" Flint asked. "Hell, where's Billy or Storm Shadow?"

"Hungover," Hawkeye replied sourly. The warrant gave him a dark look.

"What?" he asked flatly.

"Storm Shadow, Thor, Billy…we're all hungover. Thor and the kid weren't that drunk at first, but then they got into some Asgardian mead last night. Only Logan is unaffected."

It took Flint a moment to process all of that.

"Why the hell is EVERYONE hungover!"

Hawkeye didn't have a chance to answer his question. They were too busy running in the opposite direction while Scarlett Witch and a very pissed Wolverine attempted to slow the Hulk down. A hungover Thor eventually deigned to show up, having finally been awoken from his deep slumber. The Asgardian blinked a moment before brightening at the prospect of battle.

And so it went downhill from there. Billy eventually showed up, also dressed only in his boxers, to help the Avengers try to stop a raging Hulk. After several heart stopping moments, Flint helped Hawkeye to locate both his arrows and a tranq gun. The archer tossed the gun to the warrant officer while he shouldered his quiver.

The two men raced back out into the ground zero of what remained of the inner part of the mansion. By the time they had arrived, Billy had looped a few plant vines around the Hulk's neck and was hanging onto his back. The Hulk snapped the vines and threw the ninja apprentice off his back. Flint winced when he heard something snap, probably a bone.

He aimed the tranq gun, but couldn't get a clear shot. The Hulk made an impressive target, but he was simply moving too fast and too erratically for Flint to get a hit. Hawkeye, however, aimed one of his arrows and pulled the bowstring. The tranq tipped arrow zipped through the air, but the Hulk caught it before it could strike him. This seemed to infuriate the monster…man…Flint corrected himself, even more.

Thor tackled the Hulk and tried to put him into a headlock. Flint sighed when he saw that even the Asgardian was struggling against the transformed Banner's strength. God fucking dammit. There was either going to be a dead ninja, a dead raccoon, or a dead warrant officer by the end of all of this.

Flint gripped the tranq gun and ran into the heat of things. He ignored the fact that a very large and deep crack was forming in the ground. He also ignored the fact that Mjolnir zipped past his head, missing it by a few mere inches. Lightning thundered down the hallway as the Asgardian weapon struck the Hulk and knocked him down.

An enraged Hulk somehow managed to pick up the hammer with some difficulty and toss it away from him. Another section of the Avenger compound exploded. Flint ignored it. He had a target and he couldn't be sure that Hawkeye would be able to hit it with how things were going.

Well, there was only one thing he could do. Flint had to get close enough to make sure that he wouldn't miss. The warrant officer began to shout at the Hulk in an attempt to draw him closer.

"Hey ugly!" Flint yelled. "I can't see you!"

_Please don't kill me…please don't kill me….I'd rather live to see Lady Jaye tonight…._

And just like that, the Hulk was in front of him. Flint could practically feel the rage dripping off of the green giant, despite not being a mutant with empathic abilities. Giant, green nostrils flared as a pair of eyes glared down at him.

"Puny man insult Hulk? Hulk squash puny man!"

"Not your brightest idea, Flint," the warrant officer muttered. He aimed the tranq gun and fired, hoping desperately that the Hulk wouldn't squash him first. Something fell on top of him and Flint lashed out, wondering if he was about to be squashed. He blinked a moment and realized that the nearly naked and comatose body of Bruce Banner was lying on top of him.

The man was even snoring.

"You alright?" Steve Rogers asked, looking down at him. "That was pretty stupid, you know."

"Sometimes you have to be stupid to win," Flint pointed out, panting while he did so. He carefully rolled Banner off of him. The scientist was pretty skinny, considering what he turned into when he was pissed.

"You've got a point there, soldier," Captain America sighed, offering a hand. Flint took it and allowed the man to help him stand up. The warrant officer rubbed his head and looked around. The whole compound was a mess.

"So….do you guys need help cleaning up?" Flint asked wearily. "I can send a few soldiers down here that need punishment."

"I think we'll be fine," the other man replied, patting his shoulder. "Come one, let's go get some bourbon. I need a drink after this."

And so, Flint spent the next hour drinking bourbon with Captain America and Wolverine while the other Avengers either made their way to the infirmary or began the cleanup process. As for a certain raccoon and its owner, neither was heard from for several hours.

When, however, Storm Shadow was finally located through the aid of Jean Grey, he was put on punishment duty. A disgruntled Thomas Arashikage spent the rest of the day helping to clean up the mess in the destroyed Avengers' compound.

Coincidentally, Errol the raccoon was locked up in a pet kennel for the rest of the day.


	4. Cobra Shenanigans

_Author's Note: I apologize for the delay in updating "Silence" and my other stories. Here are a couple of bonus scenes as way of apology. I also wrote them to get me back into the writing mood. I will work on a "Silence" update next._

_This chapter takes place after chapter 33 of "Silence."_

**Chapter 4: Cobra shenanigans**

"_Fun with Fire"_

Tomax honestly hadn't known if Deadpool would be able to go through with his scheme to torch the Baroness's clothing off. It wasn't that he'd doubted that Wade Wilson would try, but the elder Crimson twin had doubted Wilson's chances at success.

If he learned anything valuable that particular Thursday afternoon, however, it was this: if it was something insane and impossible, never doubt Deadpool's ability to do it…especially if money, beer, and a naked woman were involved as the reward.

Wilson had staged his prank during a particularly busy moment during lunch hour at the Cobra mess hall. The Crimsons twins rarely ate dinner with the cannon fodder of Cobra, but they had made an exception this time. Even rarer, they had seated themselves at a table with Buzzer, Weasel, Deadpool, and a few other Dreadnoks. To be fair, it was more out of the ordinary for Tomax than it was for Xamot, considering the company that his brother had been keeping lately.

It had started innocuously enough...the group was picking at their lunch while they waited for Deadpool to deliver on his promise.

They didn't have to wait long. Wade Wilson soon strolled through the cafeteria and plopped himself down next to Buzzer. Tomas saw a pair of lips move underneath the maniac's mask into what was probably a shit eating grin.

"She's on her way," Wilson told them all cheerfully. He swiped a greasy piece of pizza from Weasel's plate, rolled his mask up to his nose, and shoved it into his mouth. The rest of the group looked at each other before looking quizzically back at Deadpool.

"So…is it going to happen?" Weasel asked. Wilson grinned and licked his fingers.

"Yup."

"How?" Buzzer asked. "For all we know, the Baroness's clothing is fireproof."

Huh. Tomax had actually never considered that. From what he was feeling through his mental bond with his brother, the thought hadn't occurred to Xamot either. It was logical now that he thought of it. Why wouldn't she wear flame proof clothing if her mutant powers consisted of controlling fire?

Zandar snorted nearby. The normally silent man tipped back his glass of Pepsi and drained it before smirking at the others.

"Ms. Arrogant?" he asked. His voice was so quiet that the others had to strain to hear. "I doubt it. That would be a sign that she can't control her abilities. I bet you all dinner that Baroness wears expensive flammable clothing _because_ of her powers. Her ego won't let her do otherwise."

"You bet us dinner?" Tomax smirked. "You sure that you can afford that?"

"Hnn," Zandar replied. The Dreadnok seemed pretty confident in his analysis. Tomax felt his brother mentally shrug and silently point out that it _was_ part of Zandar's job to figure out character flaws in people.

"You're on," Buzzer smirked. The blonde Dreadnok turned his attention back to Deadpool, who had swiped another piece of pizza from an irked Weasel. Pizza sauce dripped down from the mercenary's mouth. Tomax pushed down a wave of disgust. The man was a barbarian. The Crimson Guardsman knew that he himself was many things, but at least he ate like a civilized human being.

"So…" Buzzer said. "What about…" Deadpool winked and hushed him. The mercenary indicated the end of the food line, where the Baroness and Destro were talking quietly with each other. The woman gave a derisive sneer as a Cobra trooper accidentally brushed against her. She quickly took him to task for his failure to show proper respect.

"I think that's your cue," Xamot murmured. Deadpool slurped from his soda before he began to saunter towards the Baroness's location in line.

"Baroness, baby!" Wilson shouted, making a beeline for the woman. The mercenary acted as though she hadn't torched him the previous day. "I loooove the getup today. Is that perfume you're wearing?" The Baroness scowled darkly when he put his arm around her and leaned in closely.

"Apparently you did not learn your lesson yesterday," Destro told him, stepping away. The Scottish laird knew perfectly well how his lover was going to react. "I suggest that you leave in due haste."

"Nah, Barry and I are good friends, ain't we babe?" Deadpool leered. The Baroness's eyebrows twitched.

"Barry?" she asked icily. The temperature in the room seemed to heat up by a few degrees. Deadpool stepped back and shrugged his shoulders.

"You know…Baroness…Barry for short," Wade Wilson explained cheerfully. "What, don't you like your nickname?" The mercenary suddenly poked her in the breast.

"Come on, what's wrong with Barry?" he asked.

The Baroness immediately exploded at the unwanted sexual attention. Rather than light up Deadpool with her powers, however, Anastasia DeCobray's hair and clothing suddenly ignited instead. The female Cobra shrieked and hissed as her clothing disintegrated in a fiery inferno. Tomax and the others watched in approval as her bare breasts bounced as she dashed towards the exit, still covered in flames. A concerned Destro followed closely behind her.

The whole cafeteria was dead silent when Deadpool rejoined his comrades. The Dreadnoks, Weasel, and the Crimson twins gaped at him.

"Wha…" Xamot stammered. "How the hell did you manage to do that?"

Deadpool burped and picked his teeth with the corner of a knife. He placed one boot on the table and leaned back in his chair.

"I mixed acetone in her hair conditioner and perfume. I also put some of inside her boots and let them dry," he replied innocently. "See? Old Wade ain't dumb. He can plan ahead."

"But wouldn't she have smelled it?" Buzzer asked. "How the hell did…"

"Acetone is in nail polish remover, isn't it?" Xamot suddenly asked. "One of our subcompanies sells beauty products and some customers were complaining about it. Something to do with health issues…."

"Yep," Deadpool whistled. "And I paid one of the female mutants to "accidentally" dump a bottle of nail polish remover on her. I figured that Baroness would change clothing, but the smell was still everywhere in her room when I snuck in."

"She must have thought then that the acetone she smelled was still from the nail polish remover," Tomax mused. "Wilson…that was remarkably brilliant of you."

"Yeah?" Wade Wilson grinned. "Well this 'remarkably brilliant' guy wants his $2000. Pay up." The mercenary held out a hand to the elder Corsican twin. Tomax didn't even grumble as he pulled out his wallet. He could afford to lose a measly two grand for what he'd just witnessed. The businessman opened his wallet and pulled out a few hundreds. Wade Wilson actually gaped when he found $2000 in cash instantly in his hands.

"Dude…you actually carry that much shit around in your wallet?" Deadpool asked, still amazed. "If I ever go broke, I know who to rob."

"Wade!" Xamot rebuked.

"Kidding! Just kidding!" the mercenary replied. Deadpool pocketed the money and grinned at Buzzer next.

"Where's my beer and soda?" Wade demanded. Buzzer pointed a thumb towards the direction of the Dreadnoks' quarters.

"I've got them in my room," the Dreadnok replied. "I'll give to you when we're done." Buzzer paused for a moment before breaking into hysterics.

"Dear God…please tell me that someone got pictures of that."

Very soon, the rest of the table erupted into laughter. When it became known that Weasel had in fact recorded the whole thing, the young man became very popular among not just the Dreadnoks and the small poker group, but in fact with everyone in the entire mess hall.

Later that day, Tomax reluctantly admitted to himself that he'd actually had fun. However, the Corsican vowed to himself that he wasn't going to make a habit out of spending time with low lives like Wade Wilson and the Dreadnoks.

* * *

><p>"<em>Not a Geek"<em>

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Tomax and Xamot had spent the morning training with the rest of the Crimson Guard. The afternoon and evening had then been spent in meetings with Extensive Enterprises' clients and consultants. Tomax was now relaxing in a hot bath while Xamot had found another way to unwind.

"Seriously, Leia kissing Luke and then later claiming that she'd 'always known' that they were siblings is one of the most disturbing things in the trilogy," Weasel complained.

Granted, this wasn't one of the ways that the "old" Xamot had usually found to unwind.

"Well…." Xamot paused, struggling for an explanation that would fit. "Maybe she felt the connection but mistook it for sexual attraction? Besides, she obviously did it to piss off Han."

"I know that…and _eww_ on mistaking the sibling connection for a sexual connection," Weasel replied, making a face.

On screen, the duo watched as the victorious Rebel forces danced in victory alongside Ewoks. Shots of the galaxy celebrating the fall of the Empire played across the screen before the Star Wars theme suddenly blared out. The closing credits rolled down the enormous, flat screen TV as the two men looked at each other.

"What now?" Weasel asked. Xamot yawned in reply. He was tired, but he wasn't quite ready for bed.

"I don't know," he admitted. The Corsican yawned again.

"Want to call it a night?" the younger man asked. Xamot shook his head.

"Soon," he admitted. The Crimson Guardsman stretched his shoulders and popped a crick in his neck. "Why don't you show me that new weapon you're working on?" Xamot asked. Weasel immediately lit up. Soon, the two men were engrossed in the younger man's blueprints. The Return of the Jedi once again played in the background.

Neither man paid any attention to the fact that Deadpool had let himself in.

"Oh my God, you GEEKS!"

"Shut up Wilson!" Xamot shouted back. He threw a pillow at the mercenary, who easily dodged it. "I'm not a geek!"

"Tomax!" Deadpool continued to holler. "Your brother's in denial!"

The older twin unexpectedly appeared in the living room, wrapped in an expensive bathrobe.

"I know," Tomax replied wryly. There was a resigned sigh from the elder twin as he disappeared into the kitchen. Xamot gaped after him. Even his brother was against him. Not only that, but Tomax had actually _agreed_ with Wade Wilson.

Hell had frozen over.

"I'm not a geek!" he insisted once again. However, no one listened.

…

_**Note:**__ I owe willwrite4fics. It was her idea that the Baroness wouldn't wear flame proof clothing because of her ego. She also had the idea of Deadpool mixing something flammable in the Baroness's perfume. It was Totenkinder Madchen's suggestion that he mix something flammable into her conditioner. There is a type of hair conditioner that is left in the hair, rather than washed out like shampoo._


	5. Good People

_Note:__ I'm really sorry that I haven't updated __Silence__ for a long time. As way of apology, I'm posting a bonus scene here. I have been taking part in a weekly prompt challenge. The prompt for this week is "good people." I decided to use that prompt for a Silence-verse story, both to address a very real fear that Lifeline has, as well as to get me back in the mindset of writing on this story again. _

_This chapter takes place after the most recent chapter of __Silence._

**Chapter 5: Good People**

Edwin Steen rubbed a hand over his chin, which he hadn't shaved for two days. He was faintly aware that he needed a shower. Instead, he stared at the computer screen display of Jean Grey. His eyes scanned over the section about the Dark Phoenix. He knew this section by heart now.

He rubbed his eyes and sat back in his chair. His stomach felt like ice.

The medic had over heard the term "Dark Phoenix" during his month's stay in the X-Men's mansion. He hadn't intentionally been eavesdropping on Henry McCoy and Ororo Munroe. But, well…he had very sensitive hearing, courtesy of his mutation. It was usually hard _not_ to eavesdrop, especially when in close proximity to other people. He knew more about the personal lives of his fellow Joes than he cared to know.

He wasn't quite sure why the term "Dark Phoenix" had suddenly grabbed his attention. Lifeline had silently mulled it over for a few days and then asked Beach Head if he knew anything about what it meant. The ranger had shrugged his shoulders and Lifeline was left to puzzle over it.

Beach Head, it turned out, had later casually tossed out the name after a Danger Room exercise with Nightcrawler and Colossus. The ranger reported back to Edwin that the name brought up many painful feelings and that neither man had been too keen to talk about it.

Now Lifeline finally knew why.

He shut the computer off and paced around the room. Tony Stark had given him access to the Avengers' database. After the first few days hiding out in Stark's mansion, Lifeline had decided to take a break from researching the Legacy virus and look up records on Jean Grey…otherwise known as the Phoenix. It had partially been an attempt to distract him from that fact that he was unable to help find Beach Head and the others.

What he had found disturbed him. Jean, apparently, had gone insane. It had been the culmination of several negative experiences, such as being mentally manipulated by someone named Mastermind, and being unable to control her cosmic level powers. The result?

A destroyed star system. Four billion dead…no, over four billion. Edwin realized that the four billion number only applied to the sentient species on the planet. It didn't account for all of the living organisms on it.

Phoenix had also destroyed a Shi'ar starship and crew, who had tried to prevent her from murdering more people.

Lifeline didn't know much about the Shi'iar, other than that they were technologically advanced and that they were a warlike species. He understood their response though. The starship's crew had responded like any decently humane people would have done after witnessing murder on a grand scale.

Jean Grey was supposed to be one of the good people.

Lifeline uneasily sat back in his chair. The Dark Phoenix matter had been plaguing him for nearly three days now. Tony Stark had been out mostly on Avenger business. Pepper Potts was also out on business for Stark Industries, other than checking in on Edwin from time to time.

His mind circled back to his real fear. Could he ever crack like Jean? He'd always harbored a fear that he would lose control of his powers and hurt someone. His painful upbringing with his father didn't help, because somewhere, Lifeline had a fear that if pushed, he could become like the man who had physically and mentally abused him.

The medic had sworn off violence and had only learned to control his powers to the extent that he wouldn't be able to unintentionally hurt someone. However, the fear was always there. Lifeline had tried to hide it, but when one was in the company of telepaths and military psychiatrists, it was a hard thing to hide.

"_Your powers are not a thing to fear," Charles Xavier had told him. "And there is no reason for you to be afraid of yourself." Within a couple weeks, Psyche Out gave him a similar speech._

But yet…

But yet…

Jean Grey had cracked. Magneto had cracked. In his own way, Bruce Banner had cracked. They had all given in to bad experiences. Two of the three had given in to abilities that they couldn't control. Could the same thing happen to him? Jean and Bruce were good people. Magneto, he was told, had once been a good person.

Edwin Steen ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He probably should take a shower. However, he couldn't stop obsessing over the matter. Most would say that Lifeline was a good person.

But Jean was a good person…had been a good person. Was she still a good person, after what she had done?

And to tell the truth, Lifeline didn't really know the extent of his powers. Oh, he had some idea because of training that Xavier, Wayne Sneeden, and Thor had forced on him. Lifeline had also been forced into a few skirmishes with Cobra mutants, before he'd contracted the Legacy virus. He had a decent idea about where his limits were, but knew that he had never truly pushed his abilities because of his pacifism.

And what if he ever got a secondary mutation?

Lifeline's mind whirled back to his current predicament. The Jugglers wanted him under control and locked up. The setup in Seattle had been proof of enough of that. Had it been solely because he was a mutant? Or were they afraid that he might slip and become a true threat? After all, they had access to his military records and the psyche evals that Psyche Out had written on him.

Was he a threat? Was he really one of the good people?

Lifeline suddenly felt like throwing up.

The medic tried to divert his mind to other things. After all, Beach Head, Short Fuze, Bishop, and Gambit were still missing. And there was the Legacy Virus…

The good people. Who _were_ the good people?

With great effort, Lifeline eventually forced himself to calm down. He made himself shave, take a shower, and eat something. He then sat on his bed, crossed his legs, and focused on one of the meditations that Snake Eyes had taught him.

When Pepper Potts walked in a couple of hours later with a grocery bag, he was calm enough to smile at her and thank her. However, he couldn't quite make his fear disappear. Lifeline knew that it probably never would.


End file.
